by T. C. Edge
"I do, Elian. Of course I do." My eyes switch to Burns on the other side of the troop carrier. "I reacted the same when I was tested, as you've been," I say. "We all have controls in us, written into our minds. No one is blaming you for what happened. We only want to set you free, Elian. As I have been. As...Perses has been."
He glances again at the mighty Olympian, before his eyes move once more away.
"His powers are back?" Elian whispers quietly, noting the vibrant aura humming around Perses once more. It is a remarkable change to see him now. Last night, his skin was quickly clearing, his wounds healing. Now, he is fully restored once more. If anything, he seems more powerful than ever, as though each time he dies, he comes back that little bit stronger.
"He's trusted here," I say. "He was going to die otherwise."
Elian nods. "I never wanted to kill him," he whispers. He glances over again. Perses, powers returned, can surely hear it all. "I'd never do that..."
"I know, Elian," I say. "It's important that you're able to separate the real you, with the one that isn't in control. Secretary Burns taught me that, and now I am myself again. I want you back. We all want you back."
He lets out an almost nervous sigh, frightened, perhaps, of what's to come. "I don't want to lose control again," he says, looking up at me, his head bowed low. "I don't want to live like that. I...I never knew."
"None of us knew," I say, my voice darkening around the edges. "None of us really knew how much control the Prime had." I stand and move across towards him, sitting on the bench beside him. I take his hand supportively, and squeeze tight. "I'll be here," I say. "I'll be here the whole time, don't worry."
He shakes his head. "No, what if I lose it. What if I hurt you..."
"For that," comes a smooth voice from one side, "we are taking all necessary precautions." I turn and find Secretary Burns standing, and moving over towards us. Perses hovers behind him, so totemic and grand, as he always was. "Perses will be here to offer protection," Burns goes on. Elian's eyes flicker away. "Unless, you'd prefer he wasn't?"
"It's quite all right, Elian," says Perses, his voice resoundingly deep, and yet soft all at once. "I understand you may not wish me to be here. I will return later. I will tell you everything you want to know, when you are fully restored"
"No," says Elian suddenly. He shakes his head and, for the first time, makes full eye contact with the man who killed his father. "You should stay," he says. "As protection." He looks towards me. "For Amber."
I see Secretary Burns slowly reach into his pocket at that. I frown as he draws out an item into his palm. Then, with a deliberate smile, he opens it out to me.
I look at the syringe, the liquid within.
My gaze work up to his cool blue eyes. "The antiserum," I say. "I..."
"I think, Amber," Burns says, "that you have proven yourself well enough. It has become clear to me that a full strength Perses is more useful to this cause, and the same is true of you. Perhaps you won't fight for us, or kill your own countrymen, but it's critical that you, like Perses, are able to defend yourself when you need to."
He takes a step towards me, ready to inject the serum into my blood. I find myself staring at it, hesitating, and then stepping back.
He stops. "Something wrong?"
"I..." I let out a breath, my thoughts conflicted. "It's just...it's been nice being normal for a while," I say. "I'm not sure..."
"You need to defend yourself, Amber," urges Perses, looking down at me. "You might have been killed last night, as might I." Elian dips his eyes away at that. Perses is tactful enough to notice. "Do not blame yourself, Elian," he says softly. "You were not yourself. But the fact is clear. We are in dangerous territory here, and must be able to protect ourselves, and others." He looks me directly in the eye. "Take it, Amber. You have control now. Do not fear the fire as you once did. You are its master now."
I stare again at the syringe. Still, I hesitate.
Burns steps towards me, smiling softly. "Here," he says. He reaches out and takes my hand, opening up my palm. "Take it. This is your choice, and your choice alone, Amber. Keep it with you. Use it when you're ready." He places the syringe down, and gently shuts my fingers over it.
The power, I think. The power contained in this strange liquid. The power to give me back the flame. To make me into a weapon again...
I slip it into my pocket, and pull my hand right back out.
"So, Elian, then," I say, taking a sharp breath. "Shall we get this done?"
Burns nods, and turns to the young Fire-Blood, strapped right there to the bench within the belly of the moving vehicle. "Are you ready, young man?" he asks.
Elian, nervous, and yet determined, firms his jaw and nods. "I am ready," he says. "Do your worst, Mr Secretary."
And with that, as I step back, and Perses hovers protectively in the background, Secretary Burns enters into Elian's mind, ready to slay the monster within.
It is a wildly strange experience to watch Elian be deprogrammed. Having been through it myself, and knowing the turmoil that rages within, it's bizarre watching as Burns works to untangle the web of lies and controls that strangle Elian's free will.
He does what he did with me, probing here and there, asking questions as he enters into Elian's mind, seeing his internal responses. The difference, however, is in Elian's reaction; he knows full well what is inside him now. He has seen himself explode in unquenchable anger already, and is fully conscious of the fact that, if Burns prods and pokes in the right - or wrong - places, he might just lose control again.
After a good fifteen minutes of work, Burns leaves Elian for a moment, moving to one side with myself and Perses. "His programming is much more extensive than what was in your head, Amber," he says. His eyes turn up to Perses. "It's a good thing you managed to free yourself on your own," he says to the tall Olympian. "I would have had a great deal of trouble with you, Perses, if that wasn't the case."
"I cannot take such credit," Perses says, his voice vibrating deeply. "My death freed me, Secretary Burns. And young Zander helped me step into the light."
Burns smiles at that, thinking of the boy in the spectral realm, and turns his attention to me. "Would you come closer, Amber, as I continue my work?" he asks. "Your presence soothes him. Stay by his side. Show him that you care. It will open him up a little more to allow me to cast the shadows away."
I nod, and we return to our positions, Burns standing ahead of Elian, Perses to the side and mostly out of sight, just waiting should something go wrong. I move into my new role, sitting beside Elian and drawing his eyes. I can see the turmoil inside them, the battle raging on. His forehead glistens with sweat, his blond hair darkened by the moisture.
"How am I doing?" he asks, the words coming out at a pant.
"Great, Elian," I say, smiling. I reach across and take his hand. "You're doing just great."
He smiles at me, so sweet, so innocent. There's a vulnerability about him that is so endearing right now.
"OK, Elian," comes Burn's voice. "Remember to be strong now. Allow your conscious self to remain in command. I am going to probe a little harder."
Elian nods nervously, and flicks his eyes towards me. "I'm here, Elian," I say. "Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."
"I...I don't want to hurt you," he breathes, looking so desperate, so concerned. "I can feel it inside. I can feel the anger...it's trying to come back. It's trying to break free."
"Don't let it," I whisper, squeezing his hand more tightly. "You're stronger than they are. These emotions, they're not yours. They’re implants, Elian, nothing but reactions to particular triggers. They'll be gone soon, I promise."
"Her hand is clasped to yours, Elian," says Burns softly. He leans in a little bit, those deep blue eyes of his almost glazing over as he connects with Elian's mind. "If you react, you will hurt her again. You mustn't let the beast break free..."
Once more, Burns enters into his head, and I see Elian begin to flinch as he stares fo
rward, caught in a sort of trance. His neck, lips, eyes all flicker, as though probed at with little electric shocks. It's a strange thing to witness from this side, a marvellous and frightening power that Secretary Burns possesses.
And as I sit there, feeling Elian's fingers grip more tightly at my own, I think for a moment of Brie, of the wild powers written into her blood. They frighten me, these powers of telepathy. Having been under the control of someone else, having had my own free will stifled by their controls, their influence, I know from personal experience just how dangerous these telepaths, and empaths, can be.
I wonder if they've got her back yet? I think, falling into a brief reverie as I sit there by Elian's side. I wonder if they have set her free...
A sharp pain darts through my hand as I snap out of my thoughts.
I yelp, just a little, as I turn my eyes down and see Elian's hand gripping at mine like a vice. His fingernails dig into my flesh, all but breaking the skin. And around his fingers, the lightest sparks, and flashes of fire, break through.
I dart my eyes towards his. He blinks fiercely, his facial movements manic, those golden eyes of his beginning to glow. I sense another breach, his internal rage triggered by Burns's intrusions and mental surgery, threatening to explode out as his powers flutter within.
The pain in my hand intensifies. I try to pull it away, but it's gripped too tight. The first signs of blood begin to appear where his fingernails dig deep. Red marks, the precursors to blisters, burn on my skin as his hands flash and crackle with flame.
From the side, Perses strides forward. His eyes are on my hand, seeing the minor wounds. He looks into my eyes and must see the pain. He hurries forwards, set to pull my hand free, but my other hand rises up, palm out, halting him in his charge.
"No," I say. "It's OK. Stop..."
He does as I request, stopping short. I look back to Elian, seeing his eyes flickering wildly, as Burns continues to release him. "You can do this, Elian," I say, whispering into his ear. "Fight it. You're stronger than they are. You always have been..."
His hand flinches, fingernails pressing harder. A flash of fire spirals around his body, pulsing out of him. I see him grimace as it attempts to rush free, its tendrils reaching out towards Secretary Burns ahead of him. Yet that look, that grimace...it isn't one of pain, but one of determination.
He's fighting back...
With a sudden breath, he hauls the flames back inside, drawing them towards his flesh. The fade into nothing, the crackling sparks around his hands popping and going out. I feel his hand hold firm to mine, though his fingers ease off. Trickling trails of blood begin to drip down my hand where he sliced through the skin.
"That's it, Elian," I say. "You're doing it. I'm here. I'm here for you..."
My words bolster his conviction. I see the look on his face change, the rage, the anger fleeing in the face of his real expression, coming through. An expression of defiance, of courage, as he stands up to the monster lurking inside.
"Get...out," I hear him growl. He shuts his eyes tight, as though squeezing the beast into the depths. "Get out of me!"
His words are roared through gritted teeth. I turn and see Burns, still staring into his eyes in a strange trance. He nods to himself, a defiant look on his face. And then, suddenly, he shuts his eyes, and draws back, opening them back up again as he comes back into the room.
He staggers backwards, as all goes quiet and still. The crackling flames are gone. The tension has been cast away. And as Elian's eyes slowly open, I see the truth.
The shroud within them has departed. They shine out gold and bright.
Elian, too, is now free.
I stand outside in the sunshine, Elian beside me. The convoy, taking one of its short stops, stretches out ahead and behind us, soldiers stepping out to relieve themselves or stretch their legs. To one side, Burns and Perses stand, nodding to one another as they quietly converse. I notice Commander Hendricks moving to join them, eager it would seem to hear an update on what has happened, and provide one of his own as the onward scouts return from their reconnaissance ahead.
None of that is for me to care about now. My attention is on Elian, and Elian alone.
He stares out down the ancient highway, the few husks of cars that sat here, untended, for so long, now pushed or thrown to one side. It's a well enough travelled route now, having been passed through by our own forces a month or so ago. They'll have returned this way, I'm sure, with Ares and Kira's insurgent unit in close pursuit. Now, it's our turn to pass this way, this long stretch of highway allowing us quicker passage as we continue on the journey north.
"I remember passing by here," Elian says, looking around. His eyes move off to one side. Beyond a patch of woodland beside the highway, there's the suggestion of an old town in the distance, the relic of a city down the hill. "I remember seeing that," he says, looking in that direction. "And I remember how you were keen to explore." He looks towards me, his smile so real, and draws a breath of fresh air. "It feels so weird to be back here so quickly," he says. "Weird, but somehow right."
"Right," I nod. "It was wrong for us to go south in the first place."
He nods, slowly, too, looking off down the road. "It's funny," he says, his voice distant. "You never know quite how far gone you are, until you reach the other side and look back. It's like...I was a whole different person, and the same person, all wrapped into one. My mind is...mine, and always was. Yet, there was always something else there, something driving me, pushing me on, even when I wasn't sure it was the right thing." He smiles and shakes his head. "I guess that hardly makes sense."
"It makes perfect sense, Elian," I say. "I've been through the same thing, remember."
His eyes drift over towards Perses, standing with Burns and Hendricks. He looks at him for an extended moment.
"You do believe him?" I ask quietly. "About...your dad?"
He continues to look at Perses for a moment, before turning his eyes back down the highway. "You know," he says, his voice reminiscing, "I always looked up to him. Perses, that is. I only ever wanted his approval. He was the best of all the Chosen and the Heralds, I thought. Not just the most powerful, but the best. I guess, when Kovas told me what happened I..." He shakes his head.
"What?" I probe.
"I don't know," he says. "It's like I wanted to believe it, even if I didn't really think it was true. I think...I think deep down I knew that my father must have done something to force him to act. I knew Perses wouldn't kill him in cold blood like that. But I...I wanted to see some crack in him, some imperfection. Does that make any sense?"
I nod, slowly, thinking on it for a moment. "Yeah, it does," I say. "I could tell you wanted approval from him, and I could see you weren't getting it. I always wondered why. I think...I think, maybe, it was because of what happened with your father. I think it was the guilt Perses was holding, the secret bottled up inside. He couldn't face you, Elian. I guess he didn't know how to deal with it."
"Yeah," Elian whispers. "I see all that now. And my father...he, he wasn't much of a father to me. I told you before, didn't I, during the trials?"
I nod, thinking of that night months ago when Elian and I barely knew each other at all. When we sat in the grand dining chamber of the Temple of Fire, speaking quietly of our families and different lives. It had, I think now, been the moment we'd just started to bond. The start of what has become a close friendship, and maybe more.
"You told me that you rarely saw him," I say. "At least, after he joined the Chosen. That he left you and your sister behind. It's hard, now, not to think about how wrong all that is. I was never intending on giving up on Lilly when I became a Herald. I was always planning on visiting her whenever I could."
His eyes dip and his posture sinks a little. "That's different, I guess," he says. "You were new to the city. You didn't truly understand the significance of being a Chosen or a Herald. It's normal to leave your families behind when you ascend. I never really blamed him for all th
at."
"Because he was part of a system," I say, knowing what he means. "It's the Prime that's to blame. Just like with everything else. Our family, our friends...they're the most important things in the world. They should never be forced apart like that."
"We become their Children," Elian says, our trains of thought aligned, running parallel along the tracks. "It was the highest purpose of all. Their favoured Sons and Daughters. Family didn't matter so much, not when you ascended and entered into a new one. It only mattered to be loved by them. It only mattered to serve."
"Then we were as much slaves as anyone," I nod. "Slaves to their will, whatever that might be. But no longer, Elian," I say, turning towards him. "Now, we're free, and we can free our people too."
I take his hand, as I smile up towards him, and turn to look back down the long highway as it stretches towards the horizon.
And together, we look out, standing side by side, the girl from the Fringe and the boy from Olympus, united now in a common cause.
Liberated from the system that once bound us.
131
Four days pass.
Four days of long travel upon the road as we draw nearer and nearer to our lands. The Fringe, I know, cannot be far away. It's been six days since leaving New Haven, with only short nights to rest, and I know we must now be near.
I begin, as we go, to recognise the lands around me now. There's something in the air I know well. For four days we follow the path trodden by our army, wondering just where Ares and his troop might be. The scouts that we send ahead are never allowed to go far, tasked merely with checking the forward route for a few miles or so to ensure that we don't run into danger as we advance.
They never run into Ares and Kira. We hear no return word of their whereabouts. Questions begin to simmer among the troops.
Have they rescued Brie?
